Infinite
by myfavoriteloser
Summary: Charlie thinks that he may have spent a little too much time with Patrick.


_So I saw the movie The Perks of Being a Wallflower, and I totally fell in love. (****__I'm waiting on my copy of the book, which I know will be a thousand times better.)_

**_The only thing I didn't like was how the whatever between Charlie and Patrick was just kind of left there to fizzle out. Not cool._**

**_So I tried to turn to fanfiction to see what others had to say, and was surprised to find that there weren't that many, so of course, and I had to go and start another story just cuz I wanted to read it myself._**

**_I tried to keep them in character the best I could going just off the movie, so I'm sorry if they feel a bit off. It'll get better when I can finally read the book: I promise._**

* * *

**_Infinite_**

_Charlie thinks that he may have spent a _

_little too much time with Patrick._

_**Letter One:** Touch  
_

* * *

Dear Friend,

I don't think spending so much time with Patrick was a good idea, but even if I had known from the start, I would've done it anyway. I could never just leave him to face his problems alone: he's my best friend, and he even sought me out personally. It felt nice. Probably nicer than it should have, now that I think about it.

I didn't really see a problem with hanging around Patrick so much until tonight. (I just got in and I'm tired, but I'll try to finish this letter before I go to bed, because I have to tell _someone_.) He has been taking me to a lot of places he used to go with Brad lately. I think he was trying to replace those memories of them together with ones of me and him. He started picking up guys too, but I never said anything about it even though I could tell he was just making things worse.

Tonight had been one of those nights where it was just me and him and the bottle of cheap wine he'd bought with his fake ID. He got drunk: really drunk. I didn't drink that much, because I figured that at least one of us had to be sober if we planned to survive until morning, and I wanted to be able to stop Patrick in case he tried to do something stupid.

We talked about a lot of things, but when I try to remember our conversation, it is all a haze. I might've been more buzzed than I thought. I do remember him asking why we couldn't save anyone though, and I told him I didn't know, because I really didn't, and I respected Patrick too much to lie to him just to make him feel better.

I don't think either of us really anticipated what happened next, even as drunk as we were: Patrick leaned over and kissed me. It didn't feel like when Mary-Elizabeth kissed me: kissing her was almost a task, and no matter what she says, I don't think she really liked me all that much. Kissing Patrick felt like kissing a bundle of emotion. I could feel how sad he was and how much he wanted it and how much he didn't _want_ to want it all from the way his lips felt against mine.

Before I knew what I was doing, I was kissing him back.

He stilled in shock under my mouth, giving me time to evaluate the situation the best I could. I knew what I was doing: I was kissing Patrick. I knew why I was doing it: I liked Patrick. I have always liked Patrick; I just didn't know I _liked_ him until that moment. It made me wonder if the feelings I had for Sam were real, or if I just thought they were, because deep down, I thought that liking Patrick was wrong.

There was a boy in my neighborhood that I used to kiss, but one day my dad caught us, and he told me that I shouldn't do it again ever, because it wasn't right: boys were supposed to kiss girls, not other boys, and I took what he said to heart. Do you think that's why I didn't notice what I felt for Patrick? Because I didn't want to?

The only thing I didn't really know was the how. I couldn't understand how the simple act of spending time with him, most of which he was either off with another guy, drunk, or on some drug, could lead to him kissing me and me kissing back. Even if I did already have feelings for him, I didn't see what made them come out now. Maybe it was because he was hurting, and Brad was finally out of the way. Maybe it was because I had been so lonely on my own since the gang stopped talking to me. Either way, I guess the how didn't really matter in the scheme of things.

Patrick pulled away, and I could see the tail-end of confusion leave his eyes, replaced by a flood of apprehension. He just kind of looked at me for a while, like he was searching for something deep inside me. I really wanted him to find whatever it was soon, because my hands twitched with the need to feel him again, to run my fingers across his smooth skin. I felt wrong, but I couldn't help it.

"Do you know what you're doing?" he asked finally.

I said: "Yes, I'm kissing you."

Then he asked why, and I told him that I apparently liked him more than I thought, but I was just finding out now. He laughed, the sound ringing louder and truer in my ears than it had in a while. I could feel his happiness creep into me, crawling up my toes and settling in my stomach, so I smiled my awkward, crooked smile that always made me feel like a goof. Patrick took one look at my face and laughed even harder, but it was a different kind of laugh that I couldn't place. Then he pulled me into another searing kiss.

He never asked how.

I don't know how long we stayed pressed together, lost in each other and not caring about anything else, but when my hands began creeping under his shirt, he pulled away.

"I don't want this to happen when we're both drunk off our asses: I don't want you to regret it later." I knew Patrick enough to catch what he wasn't saying out loud. He wouldn't regret it, and he didn't think he could handle another heartbreak if I did.

I wanted to tell him that _he_ was drunk and _I _was only buzzed, but I'm glad I didn't, because I think I might have been looking back on it now. I guess sometimes when you're drunk, you don't really notice until you think about all the things you can remember (or can't) and say: "Wow, I did that?"

And I think "Wow, I did that?" pretty much sums up my feelings on what happened with Patrick, if you leave out all the confusion and things I'm questioning about myself now. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do when I see him at school tomorrow. _Something_ about our relationship changed tonight, but I don't know if it was good or bad, only that it can never be undone.

I don't know what to do about Sam anymore either, because I'm not so sure about her and me now after what happened. Do I really like her, or have I liked her brother, the male version of her, all along? If that's the case, does projecting my feelings onto her make me a bad person? And what would my dad think if he found out? Am I overthinking things? Was it really just a drunken mistake? I'm almost positive that it wasn't a mistake, but a few hours ago I was also positive that I was in love with Sam.

I have no idea what to do about anything anymore, and I'm giving myself a headache thinking about it, so I'm going to go to bed now.

Love always,

Charlie.

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_**Hope you enjoyed!**_


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